


That, which devours

by adrift_me



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horror, Gen, M/M, Monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 16:50:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21359488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrift_me/pseuds/adrift_me
Summary: Corvo Attano travels the Empire in search of all tales about a creature known as the Outsider. But what is the price for such a dangerous knowledge?
Relationships: Corvo Attano/The Outsider (Dishonored)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	That, which devours

**Author's Note:**

> A small Halloween story this spooky season! I hope you like it :>
> 
> [Come chat with me on tumblr or send me prompts :)](https://a-driftamongopenstars.tumblr.com/)

From the smallest village in Tyvia to the rich halls of Dunwall, wherever one goes, there is a tale that is always a little different, but always about one and the same. The Stalking Horror, The Light Devourer. The Outsider, as he is known to most, and as such he is named and feared.

A man travels the Empire in search of these tales. What fascinates him he doesn’t quite know, perhaps, a disbelief of existence of such an entity. There is always a monster to scare children to sleep and people into obedience. The Outsider could be just another monster in line.

Corvo Attano, a man renowned for his bravery, finds himself in a small fishing village, a diary in his lap and a single lantern on a desk. The light is just enough to see what he is scribbling down, and he often raises his head to see if there may be wolves coming to the village or if it is just the wails of wind outside his small hut.

He finishes a sentence in his journal with a fat dot and sets the pen aside. Another story collected, another deception of society. In this village the people carve out bonecharms from the bones of whales, drawn out onto the shores. They say it makes the Outsider look down with approval and steers him away from the good people of the village.

Corvo himself has such a bonecharm from the kindness of the village. It is large, fixed on his heavy jacket, and he could swear it buzzes a little with an unfamiliar power.

Today is the last day of his stay in the village, all his things are packed, all his memories are written down neatly and marked by dates.

When he returns to Dunwall, it will be a mighty good story to put down to a more creative pen and share with the rest of the world.

As he closes his eyes, head resting on a thin pillow and his body - on a narrow low cot, he dreams of something unusual…

The wind hurls snowflakes in his face with ferocity, and Corvo feels their sharp cut against his skin. In the darkness of the night he can barely see anything, especially as the snow seems to be picking up. 

He reaches for the bonecharm on the strap of his jacket - but it is gone, leaving him with a feeling of vulnerability. He looks around, shielding his face away from weather, when he hears… even within the gusts of wind, he hears footsteps. And then he sees them, made by a translucent shadow that stalks beside him, copying his every step with a faint imprint in the snow.

Corvo walks his dream, he sees fires inside the huts, but everything feels empty. No people live here, and he is left alone to face whatever nightmare has decided to stalk his sleep.

He turns around to see… a young man. He looks cold and sickly, his pale skin paler than the snow, and his eyes are darker than any sky Corvo has ever seen. Blackness stares at him, oily and odd and ever so nauseating, for surely no eyes should look like that.

The young man reaches for him, but Corvo carefully hides his hands.

He thinks he learnt too much, worked too much that he dreams of the Outsider. It is not the first time, but often those dreams are of someone watching, of someone curious. And here… the creature is hungry, and Corvo is the only available prey.

There is something dramatic about falling prey to the creature you have unwittingly devoted your life to. And when the creature wants to devour, it is only sensible to give in, for who else knows as much about the Light Devourer, the Stalking Horror.

By morning the village is one less - no traveler among them, no visitor. In fact, they are unsure anyone has ever stayed with them, as a memory of a man by the name of Corvo Attano slowly faints from their minds. And only on occasion they would hear scraps of old tales and stories of other places, carried on the wind and in whispers in the Outsider’s presence, tales of many places, but of one creature, that stalks, devoures till this very day.


End file.
